Mass Effect: Maven
by TrebleNine
Summary: 4 very different people, 4 very different paths, coincide to form an unimaginable bond as they try to survive a coup attempt by a dangerous criminal organisation. Aeian's past is uncovered. Now, it's a young assassin's journey to the confluence. (Mass Effect: Neurosis continuation. Now in 3rd person by popular demand).
1. Neurosis: I

**Present From A Spectre**

_**23**__**rd**__** October 2186 CE**_

_**Citadel**_

_**Huerta Memorial Hospital**_

_**16:04 GST**_

The Citadel.

A glorious monument.

A monument to all the species that have been slaughtered out of existence by the Reapers.

That train of thought is rather unshakable as I lay in bed, staring out of the huge window into the abyss that lies beyond. Not that I can see much, mind you; the Serpent Nebula's thick gas and dust make it virtually opaque. Though some of the more powerful, perhaps stubborn, stars shine through, twinkling as the light bounces through dense fog.

Below the purple tint of space, lies the picturesque vista of the ward's rooftops. Hundreds of high-rise apartments, office blocks and commercial buildings line the entirety of the arm. Air-cars and shuttles weave between them, forming the Citadel's infamous traffic. It's always rush hour here.

You'd think that with all of this to look at, boredom would be the last thing to occur. However, I've been in this room for about two weeks now, and the impressiveness of the Citadel is becoming rather dull. So I turned over to face the other way, and clicked a button beneath the bed to close the blinds, closing my eyes as darkness began to envelope the room.

Footsteps.

I open my eyes again, and flick another switch, getting into an upright position. The darkness ceases to exist as a bright light flickers on directly over my head. I wince in response as the sudden brilliance temporarily overwhelms my senses.

There was a faint drone from the mechanism of the automatic door, as it whirred into life. Then in stepped someone clad in the uniform of Huerta Memorial Hospital. White with red trimming, it was designed to look professional. Nothing more, nothing less. Still, it hugged a female in all the right places. The Asari doctor was probably attractive. I couldn't tell. And right now? I certainly didn't care.

She came inside with a large box. It was matte black, with the instantly distinguishable golden insignia of the Spectres printed on the lid. The arduous way in which she hauled it up and put it on the desk, made it apparent that it was pretty heavy. She looked at me and sighed deeply, her deep cobalt eyes widening ever so slightly. It was a look of both empathy and surrender.

A feeling of unease began to set somewhere in my stomach, so I shuffled out of bed. My feet were barely touching the floor when the doctor shrank back a little.

"No, no, Miss T'Goni, that isn't necessary" The doctor started, waving her hands at me in a 'get back' motion.

I sat back on the bed, hands braced against the cold silver bars containing the plush mattress, leaning forward in an impatient manner. The feelings of unease didn't stop in my stomach; they weaved their way up my throat, until I was sure my breathing had become noticeably laboured. The doctor took another step back anyway. She was going to hit the wall at this rate.

I was acutely aware that she was fighting hard to not break eye contact.

"Someone much higher up in the command chain must have heard about you and your…._requests_ Miss T'Goni." The doctor hesitantly turned to face the box and typed in something on the little pad on display. Four lights within the box lit up, and then, the unmistakable sound of a lock being disengaged. "The contents are yours"

With that, she promptly turned on her heels and walked away. Her furrowed brows, slight grimace and clenched fists were of no concern to me as I ambled over to the table. A small gust of air whipped at the ends of my hospital gown as the door closed. A thought appeared in my mind, then, as abruptly as it had occurred, it vanished. I must have stood before the table for about a minute, trying to figure out what that thought was. The effort was in vain however, so I went back to investigating the box.

Upon closer inspection, the box was a lot more recognisable. I had seen similar things before. Many times before, in fact. It was a military equipment case. Containing expensive pieces of hardware, these boxes had had been a vital part of my previous life. Sometimes they had crucial items that could change the tide of a fire-fight. And this was a _Spectre Grade_ case. Couple of months ago, I might have felt giddy, perhaps ecstatic, at discovering such a rare jewel on my table. Now though? Nothing. Nothing but the unease that continued to spread throughout me. So I open the box.

It's a gun.

And not just any gun. An M-6 Carnifex Heavy Pistol to be exact. My unease is replaced swiftly by shock. Then realisation.

I remember talking to one of the psychiatrists that come to check up on me frequently. Last week, in a sudden change of tactics, she decided I might open up a bit more if I were outside the confines of my room. She took me out into the reception of the hospital. We had just sat there for hours, just observing the outside world. The fact that the entire wall was a single sheet of glass had distressed me at first, but eventually the scene became tranquil.

Well, it had worked. I ended up telling her much, much more than I intended to. But I also remember panicking at the sight of so many wounded humans around. I must have asked for a gun at one point. And someone must have heard me. Someone important.

Why they would listen, and then send me a gun, is beyond me. But I'm not complaining. I know exactly why I asked for a gun.

I pick up the Carnifex, the shape and feel of the grip is familiar and reassuring.

But a sudden pain in my head makes me drop the gun with a clatter.

_Ah shit_.

Familiar is the opposite of what I needed right now, I realize too late, as I put pressure on my temples. That doesn't stop the sharp lances of pure agony that flash through my head however, each one striking the very core of my consciousness and bringing back unbearable recollections. The world fades to black as I hit the floor with a grunt.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_**Hey there, thanks for reading this story. My name is PROphecy and this is my first ever story for Mass Effect. **

**I've always wanted to write small sagas about the various NPC's that just stand around talking in the Mass Effect Universe. And when I heard the PTSD Asari's depressing tale on the Citadel, I couldn't resist any more. This story is as canon-friendly as possible, so I only own any original characters. Nothing more. **

**Anyway, feel free to give me any feedback and/or advice. Enjoy. :P**


	2. Neurosis: II

**Indoctrination Devices, Indoctrination Devices Everywhere**

_**15th July 2186 CE**_

_**Tiptree**_

_**Westlock, Promavess Continent**_

_**11:30 GST**_

I hated waiting. It left someone alone with their thoughts, and before combat, that was an incredibly bad idea. A hundred different scenarios played out in my head. In all of which, I died in horrific ways.

See? Doesn't really do wonders for your morale does it? And judging by the set faces of the rest of my team, it seemed like they were having similar problems.

Asari High Command Special Operations. That's who we are. AHCSO. Not very famous, like those fancy Alliance N7's, or the Turian Hierarchy's Blackwatch, but we get some pride in knowing we're the equivalent for our people. We can kill as well as any team of Spec Ops Commandos.

Most of us used to be on the other side of the law before we joined the armed forces. They don't really teach you how to march around or how to respond in correct form to your superiors when you're pirating. Though two of my team-mates used to be with Eclipse, and they drill a bit more discipline into their soldiers than usual.

Still, I like to give the people under my command some free reign. Personally, in the middle of a fire-fight, I'd want a friend to have my back, not some soldier you order around. It's a policy that's worked amicably in my favour for around 30 years of service.

However, that doesn't stop High Command from transferring my people around. The only person I still have from my original squad is my good friend Neaira Cala. The rest of the squad is relatively new. Well, relative to my lifespan. I've only known them for about 5 years.

The shuttle gets knocked around a bit. Probably by some unexpected winds, as there wasn't much Reaper activity in this sector when we were deployed. Neaira's gun slips as she gets jostled. Her Disciple Shotgun falls to the metal floor, and slides over to my feet. I pick it up and examine the exquisite, hand-crafted weapon. Yeah, hand-crafted.

Ever since the Justicars released the schematics to the whole military, the gun has been mass produced in factories. But Neaira's weapon is one of the originals. I think it's one of the thousand that are currently in circulation. So how did she get hold of something that rare? No idea. She still won't tell me.

Her past is a touchy subject that even 30 years of close friendship can't properly crack.

But anyway, I hand back the elegant weapon and she nods in acknowledgement.

The vid screen mounted on the wall behind the cockpit sparks into life. An annotated live feed of the main continent on this small colony is shown, along with deployment orders from the Captain on our ship. Four shuttles are all we have until reinforcements come in.

And a whole planet to evacuate.

Two teams were being sent to the capital, and the largest concentration of civilians. Another was being sent to hold the spaceport in another city close by.

Me and Neaira were briefed of our mission upon our Cruiser, the_ Kastoria_. But for the benefit of everyone else, a short message was displayed beside our objective on the map.

'_Retrieve an important artifact from the town of Westlock, and then assist with evacuating the local populace. Note that retrieval of artifact takes priority. Coordinates are attached…'_

Evacuating the whole colony was going to be tough, but compared to what was going on in the rest of the galaxy, it seemed simple. But then again it always does, doesn't it? Unfortunately for us, in reality, simple doesn't exactly mean _easy_.

"Two minutes until we hit the ground Tescani! Be warned, Reaper scouts have been spotted"

The voice of our pilot stops my mind from going back into the continuous cycle of picturing worst case scenarios.

That's what our call sign is by the way, Tescani. Tenuva are the ones going to make sure the ships get off this planet, and the two teams being sent to the capital are Serrice and Armali.

Armali are pretty special, I should say.

They're an infiltration team made up of six highly trained snipers. Urban combat is their speciality. They're kind of famous for their ruthless efficiency back on Thessia. I'm not saying I'm jealous, because what they accomplish on a regular basis is simply outstanding, and no-one on my team can snipe nearly as well as them….but, alright, maybe I am a _little_ envious. However, fame and recognition can get you unwanted attention in a lengthy war. And I don't see this war finishing any time soon.

Our shuttle touches down on the ground and the starboard loading bay doors slide open.

The town is situated in a lush, green valley. A thin, light blue mist lies low to the ground, and obscures our vision. Great forests of evergreen trees surround the town, containing the mist and making it literally impossible for it to dissipate. I can hardly see anything past a kilometre. We dismount the aircraft and fan out in a loose circle.

We split off into two squads like we always do in reconnaissance missions. Omega, the smaller of the two squads, was led by a commando by the name of Triara F'Ilo. F'Ilo prefers a close combat style. She has an extremely powerful charge, and her barriers are spectacular. But she hasn't trained in many other offensive styles of biotics. So the two other members of her squad are Eria Illian, who specializes in mid-to-long range combat, and Anaya D'Scrol, a technician. They need someone with the tech skills to open doors...

I walk into the open space separating the two halves of our squad.

"Alright, you've all read the mission parameters. Alpha Tescani," I regarded the people designated Alpha, "we find this thing, flag down our shuttle to pick it up, and then help Omega defend the landing zone for the frigate that's coming to evacuate these people."

Turning back to face the part of the team assigned Omega, I continued. "Omega, the actual parameters say you are to secure the LZ for the civilian frigate coming in. But there still might be some people stuck in the town. You are to help and protect anyone you find, but not to go out of your way to search for trapped civilians."

The three Asari nodded, and began checking their weapons one more time.

"Preliminary scans show some light Reaper activity, so everyone, stay alert. We all know what to do in case of a direct engagement, move out."

Omega Tescani headed down the hill. As they walk off towards their primary objective, deciding to take a direct path through the center of the town, the shuttle ascends back into the sky. The pilot probably thought it would be a better idea to hide in the fog rather than wait here.

I set a waypoint for our objective, and relayed it to everyone else's HUD.

I was told that the artifact was accidentally discovered by a local palaeontologist trying to ascertain the history of Tiptree's ecology. The human apparently described it as large, dark blue, and with glowing tendrils. We were told to assume that the artifact is some sort of Reaper indoctrination device, as it seems to match the descriptions of previous discoveries. Asari High Command responded to his requests to 'get the thing the hell away from here' by sending us. They told him to keep it hidden in a secure location and away from the contact of sentient beings.

But Westlock wasn't what you'd call…up-to-date. It was a rural area, with farming as the main source of income for the thousand or so residents. There were around ten times more domesticated animals here than people!

So the palaeontologist had no better idea than to isolate the artifact from the town by keeping it in the furthermost farmhouse from the town centre.

And that's where we were headed.

The waypoint informed us that the farmhouse was about 4 kilometres to our northeast. We could either go through the town, which was the quicker route. Or go around the back, which would be longer, but perhaps safer.

I had been on active duty for nearly two weeks now, so maybe my judgement was clouded, but I ordered Alpha to go through the town. I also contacted the palaeontologist, it turns out his name was Dr Campbell, to let him know we would be at the farmhouse within the half hour. Then off we went too, slogging through the ankle deep mud.

* * *

Neaira and her shotgun were on point as we cautiously entered the outskirts of Westlock. The pre-fabricated housing modules were the typical kind usually found on small colony worlds in the Attican Traverse. Drab grey, made of poor metal and containing only the bare necessities needed to scrape out a living. All of them were empty, and clear of belongings.

"There should be some sort of spooky atmosphere here," Neaira commented as she swept behind a building and into an alleyway with her weapon. "…but I'm just not feeling it today"

"Well done, you're finally numb to war" retorted Kaia Eratyra. The 600 year-old Matron was as experienced as they got these days. She was actually recognised by the rank of Captain in the Lusia branch of the Eclipse Sisterhood. She had around 100 years of 'clean' mercenary service under her belt when enlisting in the armed forces. Her previous experience had gotten her straight into the Special Forces. Armed with an M-76 Revenant LMG and a high end omni-tool, she was also officially our mechanic and technician. "Happened to me about a century ago" she muttered. I found her cynical outlook in life rather depressing. It had only gotten worse recently.

"So you're admitting you're old?" asked our designated marksman (markswoman?) Kala Nera. She stood at the back of the formation, guarding our backs. Her powerful Alliance manufactured Black Widow sniper rifle was on her back, whilst she made use of a Carnifex Heavy Pistol in the close confines of the town streets.

"Old? I still have half a lifetime to enjoy, love." Eratyra stopped suddenly and faced the rest of us, then looked Nera directly in the eyes. "That is, if we survive this damned war".

"Your pessimism is beginning to piss me off" Nera countered without breaking stride. She had voiced what was literally on my mind. Eratyra just shook her head with a frown before following Neaira again.

"Seriously? You think we have any chance of winning this? Giant metal squids from space that can invade your mind and turn you into monsters. Who don't have supply lines? Don't have any exploitable weaknesses? Against hmm…" She began to count off on her fingers, "A race that has power through politics, which means jack shit in this war. A race of scientifically minded amphibians with the best technology in the galaxy, but who don't want to help. A race of vagrants who have the biggest fleet in the galaxy, of which most are civilian vess-"

"We get the idea" I interrupted her little speech. "If you didn't think we could do this, then why are you here?"

"Because I don't know what else to do. I've been fighting as long as I remember. It's the only thing I _can_ do." She said through clenched teeth.

I'd had enough. I leaned forwards, grabbed her by her shoulders and spun her around. The rest of Alpha Tescani moved on ahead without us.

"Well then Lieutenant, if it's the only thing you can do, then at least do it properly. I know it's been a hard few weeks, losing your mother couldn't have helped-"

"Damn right it doesn't"

"Listen! You've been doing this as long as I have, don't you realise you're bringing the morale of the entire unit down!?"

Eratyra just huffed in acknowledgement.

"Look, you aren't the only one suffering in this war. Everyone has lost someone they know to the Reapers. Everyone! The only thing the affected can do is _move on_. If the whole galaxy stopped and mourned, the Reapers would be walking over us already. The only way for soldiers like you and me to honour the dead is to give the Reapers some fucking payback!"

It seemed to work. I believe I have a way with words. Eratyra gripped her gun harder, and nodded once as I continued, "So, come on then, must be at least a couple of 'em in this town"

Neaira, Nera and our combat medic Paramythia Kavos were crouching behind a low metal wall when we approached them.

"Hostiles up ahead, Commander." Neaira motioned with her gun's extended barrel, "Two of the smaller Turian things and a couple of Human husks."

Eratyra and I took cover on either side of Neaira, as Nera switched to her sniper rifle and back-pedaled slowly until she was behind the southern wall of a building. Eratyra smirked and looked at me pointedly.

"Careful what you wish for Ma'am. But for the record? This is the first time in two weeks I've actually wanted to see some of these bastards."

Yeah, I guess I _do_ have a way with words.

"Got a positive on the Marauders" said Nera, looking through her scope.

"Fire whenever you're ready" I replied. This was her forte. I decided to let her shoot first.

"Acknowledged"

Three shots rang out in succession before I leaned over the wall.

There were no Marauders in sight, so I aimed at the group of husks only now reacting to Nera. My standard issue M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle spewed out bullets in bursts of three. It only took two or three bursts to bring down a single husk, and I'd taken down two before Eratyra joined her fire to mine. The last one had had enough time to accelerate into a sprint, so my last shots missed. Neaira simply lifted the husk and threw it back with a flick of her hand. It landed with a thud a couple of metres away, cracking its skull apart and pouring thick black liquid all over the ground.

"Clear" Nera called out, "Wait…"

The husk that had been thrown began to get back up, and crawl towards us. Nera shot the thing centre-mass, blowing it apart in a grisly show of flesh and metal.

"Now, it's clear" She laughed. Why she found that funny, I don't know. I've had more close calls with those things than any other Reaper infantry. They could jump on you, locking their legs around your waist in such a fashion that you simply could not push them off. The only way to kill them then was to shoot them off. And try doing that when you have a hundred kilo zombified human trying to claw your eyes out.

Thank the Goddess I have biotics.

"Hey, Commander T'Goni, we should get going before their friends turn up" Quipped Kavos as she looked around the corpses of the dead Reapers.

"Right. Let's move."

We set off, in the same formation again, towards the farmhouse. After a short trek through more dingy alleys and empty streets, we reached the end of the town. We didn't encounter any more enemies, and our objective was visible once we were in the fields once more.

A shrill beep in my ear told me I had someone trying to contact me.

I opened the link. It was F'Ilo. I played it on our team's frequency so everyone could hear.

"_This is Omega Tescani, Alpha Tescani do you copy?"_

"I copy"

"_Commander, we've encountered strong resistance in the town. Requesting back up and Lieutenant Kavos. We have injured personnel."_

The way she said it all in a monotonous voice troubled me a bit. The rest of my team stiffened at the words too. "What happened!?"

"_D'Scrol was nicked in the back trying to decrypt a locked door to a large office. There were trapped civilians inside. She's stable for now, but her condition is deteriorating. We're wasting time talking."_

"Right, I'm sending Kavos, but Eratyra and Nera are coming with her."

"_Acknowledged Commander, we'll meet them at our current position. Omega Tescani out"_

I immediately sent their coordinates to the three who were preparing to go back into the town. Without a word, Eratyra took control of the small squad and started a light jog back into Westlock. Kavos and Nera fell in behind her, as they too, jogged towards our distressed team-mates. Neaira and I could only look on as they turned a corner and disappeared from view.

If I knew her as well as I thought I did, she's just about to ask wh-

"Aeain, why didn't you send me too?"

Yeah…

"I need you at the artifact. We can call in the shuttle and get it to drop us off at Omega's location. Don't worry, we're not sitting this one out."

"Hmph" She turned around and began walking up the incline towards the farmhouse.

I noticed that she had been acting a bit colder with me lately. It was small things like this that called it back to attention. This was a good time as any to address the issue.

"Neaira, listen..."

She turned her head slightly towards me as she continued walking. She sighed heavily too, maybe she knew what I was going to say. "Is anything wrong? You've not been acting yourself lately…"

"Yes, I know" She said it indignantly, but with the undertone of pleading me not to delve further into the issue. But I had to find out.

"Just tell me, please"

Neaira suddenly looked away from me. Then turned around and even more unexpectedly came close to my face. She nearly unbalanced me and sent me rolling down the hill.

"It's me." She said, tears forming in her eyes. "Me. I'm what's wrong. I'm the problem."

I stood there dumbfounded for a moment or two, but then as I began to move back to ask 'what?', something clicked in my head.

It all made sense now. 30 years I've known her, and considered her a close friend, but I realize something now. Of all times.

During the thirty years I've spent with her, on and off the battlefield, there have always been moments where she expressed interest in me. Perhaps it's casual flirting in the showers, and sometimes it's downright innuendoes on a night out. I've tried to express my interest in her too. To try and show her that the feeling is mutual. She always recognises my actions too.

However, just at the point of starting a relationship, she backs away. Puts distance between herself and me. Hardly talks more than what's necessary to me. Every. Single. Time. It was a cycle of friendship, love and neglect that continued for 30 years. I couldn't take it anymore, and so I just abandoned any hopes of Neaira.

But I've just spent two weeks in near enough constant fighting with my team. That ought to get anyone worked up. And at the point where sexual tensions where just about unbearable on the Kastoria, she moves away from me again. Acts cold, distant. Indifferent.

But now? Now it's all clicked in my head.

She _can't. _

Neaira can't be with me. It's almost impossible to stop the tears beginning to well up inside me. She sees that I finally understand and gives in to her emotions too.

"No, it can't be. They aren't real!" Though I realized how stupid and petty I must have sounded, I simply refused to believe what my brain was telling me. "No, you aren't a monster..."

Neaira simply shook her head once, before confirming my fears.

"Yes." She sniffed, as her sinuses became full of moisture. "I'm sorry, I should have told you a long time ago. I'm an Ardat-Yakshi."


	3. Neurosis: III

**The Omen Of Death**

_**15th July 2186 CE**_

_**Tiptree**_

_**Westlock, Promavess Continent**_

_**11:48 GST**_

"No…No…"

The revelation was a lot more staggering than it should have been, considering I'd known her for 30 years. I took one step back too far, and tripped over the thick grass. The wet mud also served to completely annihilate the presence of friction, so I ended up slipping and tumbling my way down the sharp incline of the large hill. I was lucky that we hadn't had the conversation further up the slope.

I landed on my back and the impact forced the wind out of my lungs. I lay in a heap at the bottom of the hill for a minute or two, breathing heavily, as Neaira hurried her way down to my prone form. The physical pain was _nothing _compared to what I was feeling inside.

It was a lot like hearing a loved one had a serious form of cancer. Perhaps much worse. Neaira had a goddamn _thousand years _to live with the knowledge that she could never get too close to anyone. Couldn't love anyone. A thousand years of seeing everyone, except from her, live a happy and fulfilling life.

But what was even more devastating, was her choice. Instead of going on an immoral rampage, murdering by just having casual sex and earning the legendary notoriety of an Ardat-Yakshi; she chose this. She chose to join the armed forces. She chose to help the war effort, where many would have stood aside. She chose a secret and reclusive life, instead of enjoying herself like others of her kind. The integrity and honour of this choice just humbles me completely, as I grasp the magnitude of her sacrifice.

"Oh Goddess, are you alright?" Neaira asks as she holds out a hand.

For a second, I didn't want to touch her. That she would taint me or something.

I felt disgusted with myself immediately, and shook my head to clear such awful thoughts. Then reaching out and grabbing her hand, I get up.

My armour is dented slightly, and mud is literally everywhere. It seems like gravity on the planet has increased tenfold, before my armour's VI informs me that the hydraulic joints are broken. I now have to walk up the hill under my own power. Unfortunately for me, I wear heavy armour and it weighs close to 120 pounds.

I sigh before I look at Neaira.

"Yeah, I'm good. Hydraulics are shot though"

"Oh…"

We just stared at each other in silence for moment, before collecting ourselves. And as it always seems to happen in these situations, we both apologize at the same time.

"Sorry"

"I'm sorry"

"But I-"

"No, really, I should have told you a long time ago"

"I shouldn't have reacted like that"

"No, it's fi-Actually, yeah, you did overreact a bit…"

"Hey, it's a pretty muddy hill"

I chuckled a little ruefully, before checking the time. We were late on our half hour deadline. We'd have to get to the farmhouse soon. I reminded myself of the fact that I was a soldier first and foremost, and tried to act accordingly. "Come on; let's get back to the mission. We'll talk in the shuttle"

Neaira seemed to agree, as she rubbed her eyes and nodded. I couldn't even do that. There wasn't a spot on my gloves that wasn't caked in brown sludge. So I shrugged, before beginning the painful haul up the slope.

I was out of breath and leaning against the door by the time we got up to the farmhouse. My knees felt like they were on fire as I rang the old-fashioned doorbell.

I was expecting some middle-aged human male to open the door and lead us in. With the peculiar greying hair of humans, trademark doctor's lab coat and perhaps this old town still had those 'glasses' they used to wear. But it wasn't Dr Campbell who opened the door.

It was some teenage girl.

"Hello, I'm Hilary. Hilary Moreau."

* * *

The surprise wore off quickly as she introduced herself. It was her family who lived here. She lived with her father on the small family owned farmstead.

Dr Campbell was a close family friend apparently, and he had left the device in their care. He had gotten tired of waiting for us, and had decided to run some tests on the Reaper device. For that, he needed equipment that was at his lab. The doctor was back on his way, but the heavy rain that had begun to fall was slowing him down a little.

I also managed to contact Eratyra. She had gotten to Omega Tescani with the others and helped them repel a couple waves of light Reaper infantry, whilst Kavos tended to D'Scrol. The technician was back on her feet and in the fight once more. They were heading towards the LZ with the civilians they had rescued in the office block. I praised the entire team on the squad-wide radio link before letting them know we would be there shortly.

I then took the little time we had left to start cleaning my armour. I couldn't find a cloth or anything, so I merely stood outside in the rain. It was ingenious really. Nature messed me up, so nature could recompense.

But I wasn't outside for long before Hilary saw me through a window, and offered me some basic hospitality.

The girl got me a large white towel, some soap and told me I could use the bathroom to clean myself up whilst I waited for my armour to dry inside. I accepted without really hesitating. I needed some time alone to think anyway. Hilary also told me that the 'other Asari' was in the eastern barn, looking at the artifact. Neaira was intelligent enough to not spend too much time there.

But I told Hilary to go get her anyway, you know, just in case.

The interior was a lot more modern than the house appeared on the outside. With wall mounted vid-screens, extranet terminals in near enough every room and under-floor heating, the wooden shack was really just a faux.

As I saw it, either they built it like an antique for pure aesthetic purposes, or it was actually an old farmhouse converted into more of a contemporary building. Maybe they had wealthier relatives that were sending money back to the family. Surely a farmer and his young daughter couldn't have made this much money by themselves.

Anyway, the bathroom was large without being overly ostentatious, and had running hot water. That's all I needed at the moment. Privacy, space and preferably something warm.

I took off my armour, weapons and ballistic underlay, leaving them to dry outside on a low table in the hallway. I didn't really have time to have a bath, so I decided on a quick shower. As I closed the door behind me, all sound from the outside became muffled. I couldn't even hear the video that Hilary was watching in the next room.

It was extremely soothing, and I wanted to stay under the gentle spray of water for a lot longer, just listening to the comforting melody of droplets hitting the ceramic floor. A couple of bruises on my back and shoulder began to throb slightly. A small reminder from my body that I was still in the middle of an assignment. That my squad were still out there fighting.

And that Neaira was an Ardat-Yakshi.

I hadn't forgotten that. I'd just simply prioritized things. Pushed it to the back of my mind. Now that there weren't any more pressing concerns, however, the thoughts resurfaced.

I hadn't really said much to Neaira since her admission; I guess I must have come across as though I was repulsed. So first of all, I had to let her know that it didn't change anything. That she was still my closest friend. And as I miserably realise that it couldn't be anything more, I get out of the shower and dry myself off.

I'm about to step outside, when I hear some noises outside the door. Sounded like the light shuffling of feet. So I wrap the towel around my body before I open the door. It's large enough to go around twice, in fact.

Outside in the small hallway, something seemed off.

It was well-lit before, and now there aren't any lights on. Far more importantly, my armour and underlay are gone from the table. And my guns with them.

My first assumption is that we've been attacked. I've been a soldier for 30 years, so forgive me, but that was the way I'd been conditioned to think.

I look around for any signs of attack, but there aren't any. No more shuffling sounds either. So rather apprehensively, I take small steps towards the lounge and the only exit I know of.

It's most likely nothing. The girl probably wanted to help me by wiping my armour off for me or something.

I approach the lounge and peek through the open door, more concerned about my modesty than anything else at the moment. There's no one inside. The vid screen that Hilary was watching is still on. A cheesy remake of the Blasto film was playing on channel 82. Across the lounge and through the main hallway, I could see that the front door was left wide open.

You see, it's at times like this where that expensive university course I took in 'advanced forensics and crime scene investigation' comes in handy.

If the girl had indeed gone out to clean my armour, why was there a dent in the wall behind the door? Exactly where the metal handle would come into contact with the wall, a sharp indent had been forced into the wood. Now you might think that the indent was already there, but there were fresh splinters thrusting out at uneven angles. My conclusion? Someone had slammed the door open but was evidently in too much of hurry to even close it.

Yeah, forty-thousand credits well spent there T'Goni.

I walked over to the door, and looked outside. By now, all sense of modesty was gone. As I stood in the doorway, violent gusts of wind threatening to blow the towel right off me; I saw something that made my blood run cold.

Hilary was running. Running away from two husks that were unquestionably going to catch up. She screamed as one of them grabbed her shoulder, but only managing to hold onto her coat as it was pulled off. The husks were momentarily confused by this, which gave the girl time to put some distance between her and the Reapers.

I was too side-tracked and stunned to hear the shuffling coming from behind me. By the time I turned around, it was too late and a husk bowled me over with an ear piercing screech. The motherfucker had crept up on me from all the way back in the bathroom.

Years of self-defence training kicked in as I flipped the husk over onto its back. It yelled as I grabbed its arms and tried to pin them to the floor. As it continued to scream, thick black spittle sprayed up in my face. The viscous liquid stung. I finally managed to break the thing's arms at the elbows. Then, with no way for it to retaliate, I surrounded my fist with biotic energy and simply crushed its head with a powerful punch.

I stood up to wipe the blood off my face. The towel had come off during the scuffle, and I picked it back up to wrap around myself once more. Then, high on adrenaline, I ran after Hilary and the two husks chasing her.

It didn't take long for them to be in effective range of my biotics. Concentrating with all of my will, I created a mass effect field just behind the husks. Thinking quickly, I increased the strength of the field until its strength was 8 G's relative to the planet's own pull of gravity. It was just weak enough to not affect Hilary. On the other hand, it was plenty to pull the husks in.

Setting the axis of the mass effect field to spin continuously, to disorient the husks, I called over to Hilary. She didn't hear me. So I sent a warp field at the mini-black hole I had just generated.

A 'warp' was the nickname given to a particularly nasty biotic talent that was tough to master. After many years of training, a gifted biotic could create three separate mass effect fields that interacted with each other unstably. The fluctuations would shear apart a target at the molecular level. A warp also interacted with other mass effect fields. With explosive results.

The warp detonated my singularity, and the force of the explosion threw the husks down the hill in several parts. The noise of the blast was a deafening whip-lash sound that echoed around the hills. Hilary stopped and turned around just as the arm of a husk landed in front of her.

I waved her over as she flinched and covered her head with her arms; the black blood that also landed close probably stung her too. She got up quickly though, and started to sprint towards me. Despite the situation, the teenager began giggling as she saw me just standing there, wearing the now soaking wet towel. Her amusement was cut short however, as a couple of gunshots rang out to our east.

From the sound of the reports, it seemed like a shotgun...

"Shit, Neaira!"

I ran to the crest of the hill to see what was going on, where I was joined by Hilary at the top.

In the distance, a few farmers were defending themselves against an entire horde of husks and two Marauders. I'm ashamed to say that I felt slightly relieved when there was no Asari in sight.

Unfortunately, the Turian Reapers weren't dumb. Marauders were providing cover fire with their automatic weapons whilst the human horde was getting closer and closer to the farmers. Their deaths would be certain, I thought, but surprisingly they were holding out. One farmer stood out from the rest. A burly human male with a shotgun was laying into the husks as they approached, his formidable gun shredding the Reapers apart. On closer scrutiny, I saw why I had thought it was Neaira in trouble. The man was using her Disciple Shotgun!

"That's….That's my dad" Hilary gasped. She started down the hill, but I held her back.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Why do you want to walk into a fire-fight?"

"That's my dad!" She cried in reply, as if I hadn't heard her the first time.

"And imagine how he'd feel if you got yourself killed." My retort stopped the girl from struggling, and she looked up at me with wide eyes. Perhaps I was being a _bit_ harsh; however, I'm pretty sure anyone would be pretty pissed off too if they had to stand in the freezing cold rain literally naked. "Look, kid, they're doing pretty well actually. They have better cover, higher ground and more guns."

My tactical analysis was lost on Hilary, as she looked down and started to go towards her father again.

"But we still have to get to them!"

"Wait! I know we have to, but not now. If we go there now, we'll distract them!" It was enough logic to stop her again. But I was right. The men eventually overpowered the Reapers and began recollecting themselves.

That was when I heard the most chilling and bloodcurdling wail coming from inside the barn. Hilary fell to the ground clutching her head, but I put up with it. Because I knew exactly what that noise was. I'd heard it far too often in this war for my liking.

My fears were confirmed as the door to the barn exploded outwards. The shrapnel burst killed two of the men immediately, and threw the others to the floor. I was expecting a Reaper Banshee.

But instead, I saw with my own eyes, something that would haunt me for the rest of my days.

It wasn't a Banshee. Not yet.

It was Neaira.

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Some light editing, and re-writing done in the previous chapters, especially Chapter 1. It's not vital, but reading Chapter 1 again would be advisable.**

**And a huge thanks to the reviewers, I always take good advice seriously.**


	4. Neurosis: IV

**The Enemy Advances, We Retreat**

_**15th July 2186 CE**_

_**Tiptree**_

_**Moreau Farm, Promavess Continent**_

_**12:24 GST**_

Walking out of the destroyed door, as if she was enjoying a leisurely stroll through a park, Neaira calmly walked towards the two lifeless men on the floor. Without as much as a second glance, she stepped over their mangled remains and started towards the rest of the confused farmers.

There weren't any outward changes on the indoctrinated Asari, at least from where I was observing.

The farmers just stood there, wide eyed. They didn't know what I knew. But I couldn't bring myself to tell them - to scream a warning to them - when my whole world had been rocked once again. The shock had utterly taken away control over my body. And as I stood there, motionless and traumatized, mouth agape, Neaira touched one of the farmers on his forehead.

Even from this distance, I could see that her pupils had dilated and turned completely black. She was in the state of pure ecstasy that mind-melding presented. Usually, this would give Asari the ability to share consciousness, thoughts and memories. We couldn't read minds however, much to the contrary belief of ignorant aliens on the extranet. We had to share. We had to give, to be able to take.

But she was an Ardat-Yakshi. They didn't give, or take. They totally, absolutely consumed. The genetic disease enabled them to extinguish life with a single touch.

The man promptly collapsed. No struggles, no spasms, just died on the spot. And if what the science says is true, he would have experienced her utter pleasure as they became one, for the briefest of moments.

And that was if Neaira had been a normal Ardat-Yakshi, untainted by the Reapers. But she clearly wasn't normal any more. Thus, the dead farmer's body began to…melt. The corpse liquefied into the organic paste that the Reapers desired to take from every single being in the galaxy.

The rest of the farmers had also been captivated by what was occurring, but Hilary's father stirred from the stupor first. Acting like a man who'd been a soldier for all his life, he emptied the rest of the thermal clip into Neaira, aiming for her chest. The powerful shotgun ripped through its owner's kinetic shielding and the force of the blast threw her to the ground. But before he could reload and finish her off, Neaira put up her biotic barrier, and then got back up. With a firm push of her hands, she released a shockwave of biotic energy that rippled through the earth, toppling the farmers who were to the side and throwing the ones directly in its path into the air. Mr Moreau was straight in front of the shockwave's crushing might. He flew back into a metal skip, and then crumpled to the floor. I couldn't tell if he was dead or merely unconscious. What I could tell, however, was that Hilary had saw what happened too.

The poor girl screamed. It was a raw, primal sound that was born of instinct.

I also acted reflexively, as I threw my arms around her body, and then pulled her down with me as I hit the ground. I hoped that the crest of the hill would hide us from anything searching for the sound.

But I was too slow; Neaira had stopped tossing the men around just long enough to see us. She screamed in our direction, a noise much too shrill and high-pitched for an Asari's vocal chords, informing me that the first physical change had occurred.

I couldn't see what was happening down there, but I could hear the unmistakeable sounds of a biotic charge. First, the whooshing sound when someone enters a charge. Then the sonic boom and the crackle of static electricity in the air, as electrons are shorn from their nuclei, when they landed successfully.

I immediately began to panic. It was the typical way Reaper Banshees approached a distant target.

This meant that Neaira was coming towards us at incredible speeds. Speeds much too quick for us to outpace... unless we started running now. The only thing going for us at the moment was the fact Banshees couldn't perform one, long distance charge like highly trained biotic soldiers could. They were stuck to several small distance bursts.

I grabbed the crying girl and started running down the opposite side of the hill with her. Hilary was too stunned to even try resisting, but she wasn't really trying to escape either. So even though she was essentially dead weight, I pulled her down as safely as I could. I wasn't going to leave her behind to get killed by Reapers. We slipped and skidded down the mud-covered slope before reaching the border of an enormous forest.

Evergreen trees the size of 20-story buildings stretched out into the horizon on either sides. The ground ahead was almost dry despite the heavy downpour.

I chanced a quick look behind before entering the murky atmosphere of the woodland.

The biotic charges had stopped, but Neaira was clearly visible standing at the top of the hill, radiating with erratic shudders of energy. She somehow looked directly into my eyes, despite the few hundred metres between us, and pointed. I could tell then that she was no longer Neaira, or even Asari.

Imagine the physics of biotic energy as similar to the physics of space-time. Now, I'm sure you all know that if space-time was a fabric in the universe, gravity would pull that fabric down. A planet's mass would affect space-time considerably, but even the largest dreadnought in the galaxy would be almost nothing in comparison. Biotics are similar in that aspect. I can sense a fellow commando using biotics if she's right next to me, as if she's pulling the 'fabric' of my own biotic energy field down slightly. A whole platoon of Asari using co-ordinated strikes would stand out to me, from perhaps a hundred metres away or something.

But a Reaper Banshee? That thing stood out like a fucking black hole. I could feel it pulling my thoughts in, trying to read my mind unwillingly. Trying to find out what I was going to do next. The amount of biotic potential required to do that, from such a distance had to be phenomenal. Nothing organic could do that. Not without having a nervous system the size of a house!

I thought the Banshee was going to try and dominate my mind, but instead, three Marauders ran over the crest of the hill and made towards us at a Turian sprint. And by 'Turian', I mean very fast.

So I began running again, pulling Hilary behind me.

Weaving through the copious and dense tree trunks, it wasn't long before I completely lost track of my bearings. Sometime later Hilary, thankfully, began to run of her own accord. The crunching of sticks and leaves from behind us quietened out, until there was nothing but our own slowing footsteps and the rapid intakes of breath from two astonishingly similar respiratory systems. Humans also had a left and right lung, a diaphragm of sorts, and a trachea that linked with the oesophagus to allow intake of air from either the mouth or nose.

Hilary, having grown up on a farm, had much more stamina than I would have expected from a normal human teenager. It wasn't long before her breathing returned to normal, and matched my own.

She had an upset and haggard look to her. Eyes wide, brows high and lips turned down in frown. A look of fearful uncertainty that shouldn't befall any child, of any species.

It hurt me to just look at her. But there were many others who were far, far worse off in the rest of the galaxy. The thought was plain heart-wrenching. This war was beginning to take its toll on me, and it had barely lasted a month. All my training, all my preparation had focused on surviving for the next few minutes. Protecting my team for the next couple of hours, at most. I wasn't trained to fight for two weeks in continuous engagements. To fight against a relentless enemy with _no goddamn weaknesses! _

I realised Eratyra was right, there was simply _nothing _I could do.

Nothing I could hope to achieve but survive.

So I would. I'd survive.

* * *

Two hours had passed; there had been no more encounters with any of the Reapers.

The girl had had a knife tucked away in her boots. I used the small tool to cut my towel up, and made it into a tunic of sorts. Three pieces of mottled brown and white fur, tied together with a length of material that went tight around my hips. Another three triangular pieces, that were this time, tied to a much shorter length that went around my neck. The outfit looked ridiculous, the damp cloth felt disgusting, but it was much more practical than running around with a wet towel on.

There were no small animals in this forest that we could capture, but Hilary had found a couple of bushes that were completely covered in a bright crimson fruit native to Tiptree. The local humans, with their never-ending wealth of creativity, had named them 'Red Berries'. It was a bitter fruit, with a sharp tangy after-taste that remained on my tongue for a long time. Apparently it was full of nutrients that helped humans grow. I only ate it because we had nothing else to actually eat. I was thankful that we'd found something edible.

But what we both wanted to do was get back to the farm.

I wanted to get back to my team, and off this wretched planet. She just wanted to see her father again. The girl was smart though, she knew as much as I did that going back would be tantamount to suicide. I guessed that there would be no possible way for us to go back today, especially as it was about to become night.

The Banshee would be growing stronger and stronger. They would be waiting for us on the other side, so we decided to stay overnight in the forest. It wasn't something entirely impossible, and we were both convinced that the Reapers wouldn't stay that long just to capture the two of us. Although this fact buoyed me, it probably dragged Hilary's already disheartened mood down further.

We'd found a large hollow in a massive tree trunk. It was covered in a soft moss that glowed a slightly opalescent green, which seemed to become brighter and brighter as the night swept in. The hollow was cramped, but just large enough that we could both fit inside. The moss was thick enough to comfortably rest your head.

But I certainly wasn't going to sleep tonight.

I was exhausted and weary, but someone had to keep watch. And I wasn't about to ask a human teenager, who'd possibly just lost everyone she knew, to do that whilst I slept. She'd been in the tree for about an hour, just staring at the far side, not saying anything. Occasionally, she'd throw a berry into her mouth, and chew it thoughtfully.

"Hey," I whispered softly into the hollow. Hilary quickly sat back up and she looked up at me, her face highlighted in a green glow. "Try and get some sleep, you'll need it for tomorrow."

She grunted when she realised that was why I called her, and not because we were spotted or something.

"I can't sleep" Hilary replied in monotone, leaning back against the bark and staring at the far side once more.

I was silent for a few moments, thinking of something to say that wouldn't get me a quick rebuttal from an emotional teenager.

"Anything on your mind?"

"No…yes" Hilary shuffled around so she could make eye contact, without having to lean out of the hole that was the entrance into the hollow. "I…Well, why did you join the military?"

The question didn't actually throw me off balance. I've been asked this exact same thing first, during countless interviews. But I've never told the reporters my true background. I wasn't allowed to by law and military conduct. I don't think it quite matters right now.

"Because they asked me to." It was a simple enough reply, and I could've left it at that, but…I don't know; I felt like I should indulge a bit more. "I was born on Thessia, around 300 years ago. You humans were just discovering how to print newspapers back then. I moved to a human run colony with my mother and…second mother, father, whatever, around 20 years ago. Why do you think my English is this good?" I smiled. "Imagine it; otherwise my translator would still be in my armour back at the farm."

She nodded slowly, her lips forming the iconic 'O' shape of a human registering slow surprise.

I told the girl, whose interest had now been fully captured, "My mother and father, died long ago at the hands of a pirate group. It was our mistake to live in the Terminus Systems, but we had a good life there."

I couldn't help putting a bit more pride into my voice as I carried on. "I joined that same pirate enclave soon afterwards, 'The Terminus Platinums', I know, stupid name, and I was good enough at killing that I kinda rose through their ranks quickly. Eventually, I took out their leader and once I had the power to control them...turned every single one of them into Council authority."

"Oh. Why didn't you just kill them all yourself?"

"And where would that have gotten me? In jail? No, I knew what would happen if I did murder them all, so I gave every last pirate's name to the Council. They actually sent some Spectres after the ones who managed to escape."

Hilary seemed impressed.

"So then you joined the military? Because you knew you had nothing else to offer than your…particular set of skills?"

It was then my turn to be impressed. She had a good analytical side.

"Yeah, it was like that. The Council offered me a desk position in C-Sec, but Asari High Command offered me a military role. Guess which one I took?"

"Well you wouldn't be here, stuck with me, if you'd taken that C-Sec position…"

"And you know what? I'd rather be here, helping you to get off this planet safely…" I eyed her carefully, "…and the rest of your family. I can do a lot more in active duty. It's all I can do."

I sighed. "So, tell me a bit about yourself then."

Hilary looked back into the distance, her eyes glazing over as she began talking again.

"Mum and Dad moved here from Earth about thirty years ago. My dad used to be in the Alliance Navy, not an officer, just a soldier. Was a Staff Sergeant before he retired. Mum was a bio-engineer on Earth. They both just wanted a peaceful life; maybe grow old together on a farm or something. Mum died of a sudden heart attack five years ago. Some sort of allergy to the native wildlife she studied in her spare time."

I went inside the hollow when I felt the first drops of rain again, after about an hour of calm skies. Almost obliviously, Hilary carried on.

"I have an older brother. He wanted to be a soldier just like my dad. But he was born with brittle bone disease, could hardly walk, never mind fight. He gave up on everything, was a bit of a pessimist. Dad eventually persuaded him to at least try for a ship position when his condition got a bit better. Guess what he is now? The best damn pilot in the galaxy. His test scores at his Alliance academy are so high; his _instructors_ can't even get close. Last I heard, he was stationed back on Earth for something. And then there's me." She looked at me, sitting beside her.

"Well?" I asked.

"Nothing. I haven't really achieved anything to tell you about, you know? I turned 16 last month, just left school. Was looking to enter the Alliance when I was 18. Some sort of ship position too, I like flying. With all this that's going on though, I don't think it's gonna happen anytime soon." Hilary sighed.

I thought about what she said, and it did seem unfair that her dreams could never come true. Especially as her species was so short lived. She'd never see the end of this war, no matter how it turned out. So it was an equal amount of positive and negative, depending on your perspective.

I had no choice in the matter. I had around 700 years left in me. I'll get to see the galaxy in peace once more, or a galaxy with nothing left in it to disturb the peace. Either way this war goes, if I survive, I'll be there at the end.

"I'll get you something you want." I said to her suddenly.

Her brows went up in an inquisitive manner when she looked at me.

"What?"

"Whatever you want to do with your life. I'll help as much as I can."

Hilary still looked rather dumbfounded, so I explained. "If you want to get into the Alliance, work for C-sec, whatever, I want to stay in touch with you. I want to help you."

"Oh…Well, thanks, I guess…But why?"

I didn't actually know. It was a spontaneous idea. "I don't know," I admitted, "I guess I've always wanted to help someone..." I stopped myself.

I didn't want to say it was 'because I saw myself in her'. That if she too, had no one left after this war; that there should be someone to guide her. But I couldn't think of any better way to put it.

"You remind me of myself. I want you to get the chance to experience life. A proper life, unlike mine."

I shook my head in annoyance. It was simple in my mind, but a frustratingly difficult concept to explain.

"You know what, we'll talk tomorrow." I shuffled to the side to give her some more room. "You should get some sleep."

Hilary actually nodded in assent this time, curled her legs in, and rested her head on the floor. It was as comfortable as she was going to get for the night.

I, on the other hand, sat rigid, observing the darkness outside for any signs of movement.

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE_: Sorry for the late update, was a bit busy this week. :/ Thanks for all those who fav'd, followed, and reviewed!  
**


	5. Neurosis: V

**Winter Of Existence**

_**16th July 2186 CE**_

_**Tiptree**_

_**Moreau Farm Outskirts, Promavess Continent**_

_**07:50 GST**_

I'd lost track of time a long while ago. The darkness was only just beginning to recede, when I noticed something off about the area directly in front of me.

The wind was clearly blowing in towards my left, as evidenced by the thousands of leaves quivering in accordance. The undergrowth straight ahead of us, however, was moving rather irregularly, jostling around as if it was shivering from within.

I was tired, and tired people make mistakes. I threw a small stone into the bush before thinking of the consequences. The whole plant stopped moving, and a pair of husks charged through, leaving a surprised looking Marauder gawking through the gap. I didn't know that Reapers could show emotion. Perhaps they needed to leave some level of intelligence and emotional capability for the higher functioning thralls. But it wasn't important.

It was hard to muster my biotics on a whim, as the powers took immense concentration. So I had no protection, and was as helpless as anyone as they bowled me over.

And I'm getting damn tired of falling over recently.

I kicked out with both legs, sending the husks to the ground. By the time they'd got back up, I had had enough time to throw a flimsy barrier around myself, just in time too. The Marauder had come to its senses, and began shooting at me. Its assault rifle spewed out rounds that hit my barrier, lost all momentum, and then fell to the ground like silver rain. I rolled to my right, throwing up my hands and shoving the Marauder into a tree as I came back up. The biotic push would've broken a normal Turian's spine.

All it did here was merely daze the Reaper.

Sweeping my arms back in a circular motion unleashed another wave of energy, this time directed at waist height towards the two husks. It sheared their legs off with a horrible crunch of metal. But that didn't kill them. They immediately began crawling towards me using their still functioning arms, the sharp claws easily finding purchase in the soft soil, and artificial muscles more than capable of supporting the weight.

So turning my back on them seems like a bad idea, but I knew the Marauder was capable of doing much more damage. That monstrosity took priority.

Asari CQC training involved a lot of hand-to-hand manoeuvres, focusing on using biotics to bolster physical strength with extremely precise biotic fields. It wasn't hard to place one hand under the Marauder's chin, the other on its armoured collar, and pull it apart with the simple notion of tearing its head from its body. The head twisted free from anything holding it together, again with the sick crunch of metal implants, and rolled to a rest a meter away. Black blood, so dark it was nearly purple, churned out of the gaping wound, burning my skin whenever it came into contact.

I was distracted for the merest of moments, before a husk had crawled close enough to propel itself into the air and latched onto my body. With one arm around my bare neck, the other was immediately positioned to strike me in the face. I knew I wouldn't get my arms up quick enough to pull it down.

But then suddenly, out of nowhere, a heavy piece of bark struck the husk in the side of its skull, narrowly missing my own. The husk screamed as it fell back down, crushing the other's head in the process. It was a simple matter of curb-stomping the remaining Reaper to silence the shrieks.

I looked up at my saviour, and was more than surprised to see Hilary standing to my side, still holding the piece of wood in an aggressive stance. Her breathing heavy and sporadic, she actually smiled at me before breaking into a fit of laughter.

"_What?_" I don't think I've ever sounded more incredulous in my life. "Why are you _laughing?_"

The only thing that achieved, however, was more uproarious laughter. From a teenage girl that had just killed something. With a stick!

"I, just, just, I don't know!" She replied between gasps of air. I stood there glaring at her until she eventually calmed down. "Ok, sorry. Right."

I shook my head.

"We should try and get back now. They'd be least suspecting us, and my armour's radio isn't on an unlimited source of power."

She nodded in agreement, then looked up towards the sky, or rather the streams of golden light that managed to filter through the canopy. She pointed in the opposite direction of the light. "It's definitely that way. We should get going."

This was her home, not mine. I had no clue where we were, so I just followed her.

The edge of the forest was visible. Just a screen of pure illumination that stung my eyes after so long in the dark recesses of the woods.

It felt as if we were entering a whole other world when we stepped out of the trees.

The dryness was gone, replaced once again by the soaked ground and thick mud. The shadows had gone. And the sense of uncertainty, that had festered inside me all night, was replaced by grim determination.

* * *

There were no bodies.

There was nothing visible that could have told someone that the place was infested with Reapers. Actually, perhaps the dried blood on the barn door could.

Hilary led me towards the door, and beckoned me to open it.

The door was not locked.

I pushed the heavy wood aside slowly, taking slow deliberate steps into the threshold of the eastern barn. There was little light, but enough to make out a glowing blue orb resting amidst dry grass in an open crate. We had to get to the door on the other side. Hilary claimed it would lead us into the back of the farmhouse, and to my radio.

Our only real hope of getting out of here alive.

She made her way past me and walked over towards some sort of animal pen. Cattle were probably kept here at night. I attempted to follow her, but a sudden wave of pain cascaded down upon me.

I could hear sounds. Whispers. Insidious murmurs of ill intent that weren't truly comprehensible…but enough so that they registered in memory. _They_ were in my mind. _They _were trying to indoctrinate me. They had bypassed my mental barrier – something Asari naturally learned to create as soon as they could talk - like it simply wasn't there.

I needed to think of something powerful enough to drown the whispers out. Something powerful enough to invoke my own emotions. I gritted my teeth against the pain, and just concentrated.

_Out of the night that covers me,_

_Black as the pit from pole to pole,_

_I thank whatever gods may be_

_For my unconquerable soul._

_In the fell clutch of circumstance_

_I have not winced nor cried aloud._

_Under the bludgeonings of chance_

_My head is bloody, but unbowed._

_Beyond this place of wrath and tears_

_Looms but the Horror of the shade,_

_And yet the menace of the years_

_Finds and shall find me unafraid._

_It matters not how strait the gate,_

_How charged with punishments the scroll._

_I am the master of my fate:_

_I am the captain of my soul._

The mantra of the Asari High Command Special Forces. Something instilled deep into every single of us. It gave me some hope in the face of the situation. And that hope, alone, was enough to drive the voices out.

For now.

I moved as far away from the orb as I could in the brief respite, trying not to slip over the blood-stained floor. A terrible headache had developed, and the world was beginning to spin. So it was understandable then, that I didn't stop Hilary from unlocking the door to a metal animal pen, and freeing the dozen or so humans standing around inside. But all my senses retuned when one of them screamed and lunged at the girl.

Even though I wasn't thinking clearly, decades of instinct took over.

I stood in front of Hilary and deflected the wild punch, following up with a punch of my own, connecting with the bottom of his jaw. I had, however, infused biotics into my uppercut, and the man instantly went slack as his neck broke.

Another, darker skinned human, tried to tackle me to the ground, but a swift kick to his large stomach stopped him in his tracks. He doubled over in pain, and then when my knee connected with his nose, he also fell unconscious to the floor. I had no idea of knowing whether he was dead too.

I threw the rest of them back with enough force to blow the metal door off its hinges, and raise a storm of dust and hay. In the confusion, I had lost Hilary. Looking back and forth, I couldn't spot the girl anywhere before I was bit on the shoulder by a short human male. Yes, he bit me.

The unusually short man received the full wrath of a confused and angered AHCSO commando.

I lifted him up into the air with one biotic field. Then, with practised ease, but extreme emotions fuelling my power, I collapsed the field with an unstable warp attack.

The resulting explosion thundered through the earth, and flung everything to the ground.

I was first to get to my feet. My attacker had been pulverised, bloodied bits of his torso and bones were the only pieces remaining. The barn roof now had several holes, letting light waft inside. I also spotted Hilary on the floor, but far away enough from the epicentre that she was merely stunned. I ran over to her and half-dragged half-carried her to the other side.

I was still fuming that she had let the obviously indoctrinated humans out, but she was oblivious of her surroundings, so I decided to save the shouting for later. Just before I opened the door through to our potential freedom, I sensed something with immense biotic capabilities closing in.

_Damn it!_

I'd forgotten about the Banshee!

The thing was undoubtedly coming to investigate the noises. A blue hand was at the main entrance when I dragged Hilary behind some large equipment. There was nowhere to run. So I hid too.

Peeking through the gap in some wires, I slowed my breath down when three husks came charging in too. But then, I heard whimpering behind me.

"Shhh!" I urged the girl, desperate to at least stay hidden until the Banshee decided to go away.

But Hilary began crying softly. I turned around slowly, only to see why she was making noise. Her right leg was twisted at a horrific angle, bone showing white and pristine through her dirty jeans. But I didn't feel guilty. Instead, I felt scared.

The husks were almost here. The Banshee was approaching right behind them, straight for us. And I let fear get the better of me.

I…I still can't recall what exactly happened between this instant and my extraction. Every time I try, my head just hurts. But I do remember one thing, clear as day.

I remember gathering my last ounces of biotics into an incredibly tight ball of energy.

Placing it directly beside Hilary's head.

The sharp change in gravity forced her head to turn.

Turn too quickly.

It…

I…

I killed her to save myself.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_** Sorry about the hiatus, _life_ decided to obstruct.**

**Well, just the epilogue to go now. Been quite a short journey, but I loved writing this. Thanks for reading and all those who gave reviews/faves/alerts! :D**

**If I was to take up another short, what should I do? Any other NPC in the Mass Effect Universe that strikes your fancy? Let me know.**

**PS: That poetic masterpiece is 'Invictus' by 'William Ernest Henley'.**


	6. Neurosis: VI

**Ad Finem**

_**23rd October 2186 CE**_

_**Citadel**_

_**Huerta Memorial Hospital**_

_**16:30 GST**_

I awoke in a stupor, drenched in cold sweat. My head was throbbing intensely, and I could barely remember why it smelled like a hospital.

Bracing my hands on the table, I pulled myself up with some effort. I stumbled over something metallic on the way to the bed. It was the Carnifex. I picked it up, took the safety off, and made sure it was fully loaded. An old habit.

_It'll only take one bullet._

I'd made up my mind a while ago. My existence was painful, both to me, and to others around me. I'd lost the capacity to fight, and the will to live. They couldn't have someone like that on the front lines, never mind commanding Special Forces.

It was…it was calming, in a way, to know that I wouldn't have to experience the future. Nobody would admit it, but we all knew this war was hopeless. And to live as long as I could, as an indentured servant of machines? No, call me a coward, but I'll take the easy way out for once.

…Yet, just how broken am I? Those flashbacks stopped me from ending my life, but by showing me why I was a failure. Why I couldn't live. Why I didn't want to live.

I had even more determination now. Ironic really.

But then, a thought popped into my head. The same thought I'd had earlier, before I opened the box. It had caused a fleeting moment of extreme fear.

Now I understood why.

My hospital gown had whipped around when the nurse had left the room, as if there had been a breeze drafting through the corridor outside. But no, that's impossible. There's no way there could be a gust of air inside the hospital. Unless there was a major breach to the infrastructure…

I walked up to the automatic doors, and when they opened, I was subjected to an entirely different environment. The main lights were off in the corridor outside, with red warning glows providing the only illumination. It was empty too. None of the hectic activity that plagued most hospitals on the Citadel. Nothing.

I understood the necessity of not alarming the patients, however, and it was probably why everything had seemed normal in my room.

Another thing that told me that something was off, was that the fact the screen representing the firmament outside…was different. Never in my lifetime have I heard of the Citadel's weather pattern altering, or even having the ability to. No 'sky' was visible, and the 'clouds' were a dark and forlorn grey. It seemed the wind had picked up too. Trees that had never been expected to experience such gale forces had been uprooted.

And then there was gunfire everywhere.

It was as if I had been underwater all this time, then suddenly came for air. Everything seemed clearer and sharper. I could now see that there _was no glass_. The window stood empty. As if the entire eastern wall had retracted down somewhere. My theory solidified, as I placed one foot over the threshold gingerly and discovered that there were no glass shards to be cautious of. I climbed down the ledge to a platform that ran all the way back into the station, and towards the central elevator shaft. Hugging close to the wall, I followed it.

There was no air traffic. Smoke was beginning to rise in many places, even as far as the wards. Gunfire was still ever-present, but not a wielder in sight…

What in the name of the Goddess was happening?!

* * *

**Author's Note:** I know this was extremely short, but bare with me.

This is the end of this story arc. Aeian's_ private story_ is over as far as I'm concerned, but I have a larger idea in motion. She will be back! I'm going to create a few more arcs - short stories like this one - and combine them later on. Note that they will all take part parallel within the same universe, and like I said, join up later.

For example, everyone's heard of** Kolyat Krios** right? The boy assassin? Want to know what happened to him before his father's death? I have a few ideas...

The first chapter to that arc will be up very shortly.

**I'm open to suggestions** for any other interesting NPC's you might want to see too, because I never have any solid plans. But yeah, bare with me and my terrible structural integrity. :P


End file.
